The Return
by Silver Lighting
Summary: "Sometimes, to go forward, one must go back." 10 years after her return from the Labyrinth, Sarah 'remembers' Jareth. But is that a good thing?...Or a bad? (need a beta, just email)
1. Remembering

Sarah Williams sat behind the front desk of the silent bookstore, listlessly flipping throught the pages of a magizine. There was no one around and it was nearing closing time. She thought about closing up earily, but knew that Mr. Johnson, her boss, would dock her pay if she did, even if it was only for a few dollars. The brand new camra over the door would give him the right to do that. Why a bookstore needed a video camra was beyond her, but then, it wasn't her money that was beening spent on it, so what difference did it make?   
  
Letting out a long, low sigh, Sarah closed the magizine and turned to stare out the tiny window that was behind the front desk. Sometimes, like now, when she was all alone and the sun was setting, she would day dream. Sometimes her dreams were about her childhood, and all the time she spent with her nose in a fantasy book. Other times, like now, her dreams were about an imagenary some-body that she had made up when she was 15. She could never quite see him clearly, only a profile in a dark corridor.   
  
Although Sarah had grown up and left behind her teenage years of daydreams and make-believe, sometimes, in her mind, she'd see an image so clear that she'd think it was real. But when she tried to reach out to this "memory" it would fade, having her feeling abandoned, like her friends had left her.   
  
The only problem was, Sarah didn't have any friends. After her emotional fall-out, she'd had no one, not even her family. Everyone thought that she was crazy, because one day her parents had caught her talking to the mirror. Now, that may not seem like an odd thing; alot of people talk to theirselives in the mirror. But Sarah hadn't been talking to herself. No, she'd been talking to someone. She'd been so sure that someone was there that her step mother had talked her father into going to a "special doctor" who had, after talking with her, given Sarah some pills that helped her with her "problem".   
  
So now, when ever Sarah sees something that no one else does, or when she thinks something (or someone) is there that's not, she grabs a pill and makes the 'images' go away. That was the only way that she could survive, after seeing the hospital that her step-mother would have forced her in if she'd gone on believing that her dream about a hansome man and dwarf were real.   
  
Although Sarah was now a legal adult, 25 and a half, living on her own and supporting herself, she still feared what her step-mother would do to her if she stopped taking her pills, so she lived day by day with only her historical romances and her pills. Not much, but, for her, enough.  
  
As Sarah stared out the window, a pure white owl landed on a tree branch outside the bookstore. He sat like royality, back straight and tall. His feathers were smooth and soft looking. But his eyes, they are what held Sarah's interest. They were large and hypnotizing. He looked at her for a bit, then cocked his head the the side.   
  
"Sarah......" the voice was drawn out and deep, like a man's would be. That one simple word, her name, triggered a flicker of images. One of a tall, blonde man who stood before a pair of open french doors, like the kind in her father's bedroom. Another of the blonde man standing before a short little dwarf, looking imtimidating and slightly evil.   
  
A dazed look came into Sarah's blue eyes as the owl watched, puzzled at the emotions flying across her face. He turned his head, his dark eyes following her as she stood, staggeringly making her way toward womens' bathroom in the back of the small store. Once in there, he watched through the open door as she pulled a small amber bottle from her jeans pocket and shook out two small blue pills. She threw them into her mouth, then folded her hands together so that she could drink the clear water that flowed out of the sink spout from them.   
  
The owl watched as she sank to the tiled floor, her head on her up-drawn knees. He didn't know what was in that pill bottle, but he didn't like it.  
  
No, he didn't like it at all....  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Hope ya enjoyed that and I hope to have more up soon.   
As Always,   
~Silver Lighting 


	2. Midnight Gangs

After the little edisode at the bookstore, Sarah closed up earily, no longer careing that she might get into trouble with Mr. Johnson. She just wanted to go home, to her little apartment where her baby waited.   
  
Pulling the door closed behind her, Sarah turned toward home, walking a slightly fast pace, mainly because all the lights in the other shops had long since gone out and only the dim, yellowish lights of the near by street laps lit the cold sidewalks.   
  
Her tennis shoes made not a sound as she walked quickly toward her apartment complex. Without even knowing it, Sarah was humming a slow-sad walz. She didn't know when, or where, she'd heard it, but she loved the tune all the same.   
  
Unbeknowest to Sarah, the same snowy, white owl who had watched her through the store window and had seen her mad dash to take her pills, was flying behind her and keeping a steady flight with her fast pace walk. A puzzled look came over his feathery face at the sound of the song being hummed by the girl below.   
  
Sarah, not paying attention to anything other then placing one foot in front of the other, didn't notice the owl, or the small gang of men at the end of one alley, smoking and drinking amoungest themselves.   
  
When Sarah walked by, each man took notice of the situation; a woman, alone, at night, with not a soul around. Throwing down their ciggarettes, the men silenty communicated with looks and nods, before fanning out and backing into the shadows.   
  
Although Sarah didn't notice and was going on her way as usual, her feathered champion did and pulled up sharply, so as not to be seen by the woman or men.  
  
Suddenly, a large, leather-clad man stepped into Sarah's path, blocking her from continuing on her way. His face was like that of a pit bull. His head had been shaved blad, leaving his skin to shine with grease and sweat.A strong smell of stale ciggarettes and cheap beer almost sent Sarah staggering backwards.   
  
"Hey, little lady, what are you doing out here all alone?" he said, his voice adding a chill to the already cold night air.   
  
Taking a step back to avoid the smell of his rack breath, she heard male laughter behind her, then realized that this man was not alone and that his friends had effectivly pinned her in.   
  
While images of gang rape race through her mind, Sarah vainly looked around the cirle they had formed and found an open gap. She tried to make a run for it, but had only gotten two steps away when a heavy, well muscled arm wrapped around her middle and she was roughly jerked back againist the filled out chest of one of the men.   
  
"Well," said the pit bull, who was undoubtably the leader of this street gang. "where do you think you're going? The parties only just got started." There was more laughter as he reached out with his dirty, calloused hand and took hold of Sarah's soft chin. He raised her head up so that she would have to look him in the eye.   
  
His unwashed arm snaked across her back as he took her from his friend. This brought her flush againist him and his odor alone almost made Sarah pass out. He laughted at the fear clear shining in her eyes, before lowering his head and forcing a kiss (if you could call it that, which Sarah didn't) on to her. He was rough and hurtfull, not only phsyically, but mentally as well.  
  
Using a self-defence method she'd read about once, Sarah let her body go limp. Taking this as consent, the man lessened his grip on her.   
  
The second Sarah felt his arms relax, she bit down hard on his bottom lip, grindding her teeth till she tasted blood. When he let go of her and reached up to touch his welting lip, Sarah brought her knee up into his groin, then slammed her foot down onto his instep.   
  
Howling with pain and outrage, the man shoved her away and cupped his stinging manhood. Sarah turned and ran. She only ran faster when she heard the shouts and heavy (if unsteady) foot falls behind her.   
  
Again, a hand fell roughly on her shoulder and jerk her around. Tears came to Sarah's soft brown eyes; she'd failed and now their be even harsher then thay would have been before. The man holding her now was twice as big as the pit bull, and when he raised his hand (as if to slap her soundly across the face), Sarah braced herself for pain like none she'd ever felt before.   
  
There was a flash of white, and the man let Sarah go on a scream of pain as the snowy owl scratched at the skin below his eye. He covered his face with his arms, which were in turn, bloodied by the sharp talons flashing dangerously close.   
  
Sarah ran and ran, not stopping till she was safely inside her apartment with the door looked and chained.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*Sorry I took so long on this chapter, but for some reason, the second chapter is always the hardest for me. As Always, *Silver Lighting 


	3. Watching Waiting

Sarah leaned back againist the closed door and shut her eyes, unwilling for the time being to think about the events that had unfolded before her this night. She dragged in one deep breath after another, willing her heart rate to slow down. When it finally slowed down to it's normal rate, Sarah walked on unsteady legs toward the floral-patterned chair that sat againist the big window faceing a perfect view of the park.   
  
Hearing a soft whine, Sarah looked down and saw Baby, her snowy white puppy sitting at her feet looking up at her and trying in vain to jump into the high reading chair. Smiling fondly at the terrier, Sarah lended down and took the pup into her arms, cuddling him close as she let the tears of her near-miss fall into his soft white fur.   
  
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Sitting on the window seal of Sarah's window, was the snowy white owl who had defended her, and followed her home.   
  
Now he sat and watched her silvery tears fall and cursed the frail glass that seperated them, and the curse that held him in this owls body till she called on him again.   
  
So Jareth sat through the night, watching the woman that he'd loved forever, thinking of the girl she was, and wodered when, no, *if*, she'd ever call upon him again.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Sorry it's so short, but I just thought that I'd give ya'll something since I ain't wrote anything in a while.   
As Always,  
~Silver Lighting~ 


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